His Bride by Design. Teresa Hill
could get someone to take over his investment was to guarantee any losses the new investor might suffer.
Something Chloe would definitely not be happy about, even now, if she found out. It made James sound like some kind of controlling, overbearing, interfering man—all of which she’d accused him of being, when all he’d been trying to do was help. He was, after all, a brilliant businessman. What kind of a fiancé would he be if he didn’t help her? Chloe was brilliant herself, but creatively, fashionably. She didn’t have a businesslike bone in her body.
But all that was old news. Chloe should definitely be old news to him.
As long as nothing else really bad happened, she would be.
The Bride Blog: News of all things bridal.
Wedding Dress Designer Chloe’s Shocking Video Confession: She Never Really Believed in Love.
After three failed engagements, did she put a secret curse on all her gowns? So that no one else gets a happily-ever-after, either?
The question on the minds of brides-to-be everywhere: How could anyone marry in a Chloe gown and ever think their love will last?
Word is that brides are storming Chloe’s showroom in Brooklyn, demanding to return their dresses and to get their money back, much like the old-fashioned run on a failing bank.
How long can the House of Chloe hold out?
Time will tell, dear brides.
Time will tell.
Addie was scared to go downstairs that morning. They hadn’t actually had hordes of angry brides demanding refunds so far, but they’d had enough to scare Addie. What would they find today, after the latest Bride Blog piece, and a new video of Chloe, drunk in the bar the night of the bridal brawl, talking about her diastrous three engagements and claiming she never believed in love? Chloe even described herself as “cursed in love” in the new video. So Addie was scared to even look outside.
She crept into the showroom without turning on any of the lights and peeked out between the window blinds in the corner farthest from the door, and there stood … one, two, three hysterical-looking brides already, bridal garment bags in hand, no doubt the much-feared, supposedly cursed wedding dresses inside, ready to be returned.
“Oh, my God!” Addie cried, then crept away from the window, for fear that they would see her.
They weren’t even supposed to open the store until noon. This was the day they stayed open until 8:00 p.m., for brides-to-be who worked all day, and it was barely 9:00 a.m. now. They were about to be overrun, all because of that stupid Bride Blog woman!
James wasn’t surprised later that morning to see Adam looking a little uncomfortable across the breakfast table, saying he was sorry, but he just couldn’t put any more money into Chloe’s business right now. Another friend had already clued James in to the fact that Adam himself was not in the best financial shape at the moment. Hardly anyone was.
“I’ll take care of it.” James held out a checkbook for his personal account.
“If that’s what you want.” Adam looked like he was dying to ask what James was doing, bailing out a woman who’d dumped him a year and a half ago.
Fair question, and not one James cared to answer for anyone, not even to himself. He shrugged, tried to play it off and said, “She’s great in bed.”
Adam looked like he didn’t believe that reason at all, but volunteered, “I wouldn’t know about that.”
“Good,” James said, ridiculously happy to hear it.
“I mean, she’s adorable, funny, seems very sweet, obviously unusually talented and driven when it comes to her work.”
James nodded. She was. What could he say? He hated the idea of her being hurt, of her losing her business, losing her dream. Other than that … he just didn’t know.
As James handed his check to Adam, Marcy burst in, looking absolutely petrified. “There’s a riot at Chloe’s!”
James gaped at her. “Riot!”
Marcy nodded frantically. “That Bridal Blog lady? She said there’s a riot breaking out at Chloe’s store right now. Disgruntled brides storming the place, wanting their money back for the cursed dresses. It’s all over Twitter. I thought you’d want to know right away.”
He did. He’d ordered Marcy to keep him updated on the Chloe situation. But now that he knew this, he should probably run in the opposite direction. His life had gotten weird from the moment she came back into it. Not that she was truly in his life again. It just felt like it. From the distance of cyberspace, his favorite corner newsstand and that one night on the street corner across from her house, she was having her strange effect.
And he was afraid he liked it. He’d liked it the first time. Life had been interesting, surprising, even felt a little … fun. He could have that again. She was in trouble, and he was going to help her. Crazy as it was, it was what he’d wanted from the moment he’d looked up and seen her face on those stupid tabloid covers.
“I’m going over there,” he said, feeling better than he had in ages.
Now that James had given in, he couldn’t get to Chloe fast enough.
“She makes me a little crazy,” he confessed to Adam, who’d gotten into the taxi with James, probably to see just how crazy James was. Over a woman.
“Chloe’s a very interesting person,” Adam said carefully.
“She is. I just need to make sure she’s okay,” James claimed, which was so obviously a lie. He was acting like a madman over her.
“Hey, I like Chloe. She’s great,” Adam began.
“You swear you never slept with her?” James just couldn’t help but ask.
“I swear. My life is screwed up enough—”
He broke off as James scowled at him.
“I mean, complicated. My life is really complicated. The last thing I need is to get involved with any woman. Even one as interesting and cute as Chloe.”
“Okay,” James said, satisfied for the moment on that count.
After about twenty minutes, he looked out the car window, and there, a block away, was Chloe’s shop, that huge, old Victorian where she lived with her two cousins and Addie. He saw some kind of commotion out front and two, no, three camera crews and some of those big, tall lights the TV people used when they filmed things.
James charged into the mass of crazy, garment-bag-wielding brides, just as one of them drew back to take a swing at Chloe, who looked like a waif in her pajama bottoms and one of those stretchy little spaghetti-strap tops she liked to sleep in.
He thought those were the sexiest things he’d ever seen.
Especially when she wore one of those tops and nothing else except a little scrap of lacy panties. Chloe at her softest, most inviting, rumpled best.
God, he’d missed her!
Just then, another bride took a swing at her with her garment bag. The blow sent her stumbling backward. James stepped in and caught her hard against him, feeling a huge surge of relief, just having his arms around her. She went limp like she suddenly didn’t have any bones and looked absolutely stunned, either from the blow or seeing him, he couldn’t be sure. He lifted her up into his arms, glaring at the garment-bag-slinging woman, daring her or anyone else to come close to Chloe now that he had her.
Chloe reached out a hand to ever so lightly touch the side of his face, like she needed to know he was real. “James?”
“It’s okay,” he said, tucking her face against his chest, trying to reassure himself that she was truly okay. “I’ve got you.”
When he lifted his head, he realized the crowd had quieted, finally.